


A Memory, A Moment

by Jahaliel



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Chocolate Box Exchange, F/M, Slice of Life, These two deserve to be happy, hopeful moments in a hopeless world, i love Ciaran's blades, set before the fall of Oolacile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:20:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9487001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jahaliel/pseuds/Jahaliel
Summary: When the Wolf Knight Artorias is sent to investigate rumours of darkness in Oolacile his partner the Lord's Blade Ciaran decides that he shouldn't go alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fells/gifts).



> hope you enjoy this Fells, I enjoyed writing it.

There were times, the Lord’s Blade Ciaran thought, that it was good to be a Blade as well as a Knight. It gave her the freedom of movement and a degree of autonomy that came in useful. Especially when her favoured Knight, Artorias, was leaving Anor Londo. They had fought together in the long Dragon Wars seeking to end the reign of the Immortal Dragons – fighting behind and supporting their Lord Gwyn, now ruler of Anor Londo and the wide world, elevated to Godhood with his Children. Ciaran shook her head, trying not to think about Gwyn’s oldest son, the God of War who had been cast out. The fight had lost them the most senior of the Four Knights, Ornstein choosing to follow the One he had helped raise, trained and then served. But though the departure had cast a pall briefly across the city of Gods, time moved on and slowly things got better.

Or at least they had been until reports had come of darkness, a churning Abyss that sought to drown the Fire in itself. The reports had come from Oolacile, a land of great sorcerers and power – so Artorias had been sent to investigate and as Ciaran had no pressing duties she chose to accompany him, to be his support, for if the dark had returned they could be seeing another war. It would be dangerous and while her friend was capable of taking care of himself, and had Sif by his side, she would add her protection to the wolf’s and hopefully that would be enough to bring them all back home safe.

Leaving Anor Londo by the front Gate and heading down towards New Londo, the Wolf Knight did not notice the Blade traveling behind him. Sif did - and spent most of the morning running back and forth between the two until Artorias noticed his shadow. When he stopped for lunch, Ciaran caught up to him, giving a small smile. Artorias smiled back and asked what she was doing - her reply that she was going with him as she had some free time amused him. A lesser knight than he may have thought her concern was because he was not good enough - Artorias knew better. They’d been friends for many years and in the wake of Ornstein’s leaving they had become lovers. When they had finished lunch they moved on together, a trio that worked as one.

They made good time, and decided to camp outside rather than find an inn. It would be far more peaceful as the 4 Knights of Gwyn were well known legends and staying in a town would result in small mobs (or sometimes larger mobs). Artorias and Ciaran gathered firewood as Sif hunted down dinner for them. After they’d roasted the meats over the fire Ciaran was polishing her swords when Artorias came over to her side. She looked up at him curiously, he suggested a sparring match - it would do them good to practice.

Ciaran took his hand and pulled herself up, settling herself into a fighting stance, her twin blades gleamed in the firelight - Artorias unsheathed his greatsword and took up a ready position. FOr a moment the two locked eyes and then Ciaran moved. Her right hand sword trailed gold fire as she darted in aiming for his left flank with a vicious swing. The musical clang of metal on metal sounded in the clearing as Artorias blocked and then counter-attacked, his raw power behind the sweeping blow. Ciaran dodged and spun, even as a breathless laugh came from her lips. It was so good to spar like this - the two of them were in near perfect alignment, the series of attack, counter, block and parries more vivid and bright than any Court dance.

An hour or so later - it was hard to track time when they were lost in the flow of sparring, Artorias called an end to the bout - Ciaran sighed but agreed. There was a nearby stream so they took it turns to briefly go and clean up as Sif kept watch by the water for them both. Settling down by the fire which had burned down low they quietly argued about who should take first watch when Sif stuck her head between them, a soft growl demanding attention. “Are you going to take first watch for us then Sif?” Artorias asked. The wolf gave a regal nod and then moved away from the fire - a pacing shadow watching in the dark. As they relaxed and gave in to sleep it seemed only natural that their hands should entwine - the ones that weren’t resting lightly on the hilts of a weapon.

When they got to Oolacile the next day it was immediately obvious something was wrong, there was an oppressive feel to the air, the gardens of the King seemed shadowed. Without a word the two Knights and Sif slipped into battle-ready awareness - Ciaran dropped back a pace drawing her blades, and Sif kept close to Artorias side, her lips pulled back over her teeth in a quiet snarl. The attack when it came was fast - but they were faster, the gold streaks of light left by Ciaran’s Tracer distracting the enemies who never saw the greatsword coming. Sif viciously pulled down one of the attackers who had attempted to strike at Artorias back. 

At the end of the fight, they cleaned their weapons on the grass and continued on towards the palace of the King - senses extended and wary. They had not gone more than ten steps when another group of attackers jumped out from the shadows. The attackers were clearly corrupted by the Abyss - darkness rolled off them in waves but they fell to the poison and bleed of Ciaran’s tracer and they fell to the bold swings of Artorias.

But no matter how many they fought there were always more; eventually Ciaran took an injury to her left leg that slowed her. Artorias and Sif stepped up to compensate and when he took a bolt through his sword arm it was Sif who grabbed the greatsword in her mouth, and swung it with just as much efficiency as her Master. “We should get out of here,” Ciaran called, her Tracers still singing through the air though her dance was slower. “Agreed, it is obvious that Oolacile is falling to the dark.” replied Artorias. So they fought back the way they had come, covering each other until they were clear of the borders of Oolacile. 

They returned to Anor Londo together, and after receiving treatment for their injuries from the Sunlight Maidens, Artorias kisses Ciaran goodbye and goes to give his report to his Liege. The Knight spends many hours closeted with Lord Gwyn discussing what he had observed. At the end of the meeting Lord Gwyn tasked Artorias with the sealing away of the Abyss and the quieting of whatever the monster was whom the King of Oolacile had summoned. Lord’s Blade Ciaran would be sent to deal with the King and with insurgents within New Londo - there were murmurs of rebellion against the Gods.

When Artorias gives Ciaran the news Ciaran asks him to not go when and where she can’t follow. He tells her that it is his duty to serve and that he wants for them a world of peace, and for that chance, to continue a life together, he’d do anything.

“Be careful,” she say in return, and she tells Sif to look after her Master.

When he kisses her goodbye at the gates of the City he leaves with the hope that he will return to her soon.


End file.
